(Ayy)
Paris watched Kris closely as the taller boy moved around seeming a little confused when he sat on the ground. He froze up a little when he was instructed to sit, and hesitated for several seconds before reluctantly complying. "R-Right…" He was quiet for a little while, trying to come up with something else to say. "So… uh… I guess we should try and get to know each other better, yeah?"
He nodded. "Y-yeah, we should." He didn't say anything for a moment, and then chuckled awkwardly. "Haha, sorry, I'm not even sure where to begin on the whole 'getting to know eachother' thing. I haven't really had much experience with this, you know? How is this so fucking easy for people?" It seemed like other people naturally grew closer and bonded, but with Kris and the few friends he's had, it felt kind of forced. That was probably part of why he didn't have any friends…well, until now.
"Yeah, me either… I don't really know how to talk to people." Paris laughed nervously. "Um… I-I mean, we already know each other's names, so… and ages. I'm pretty sure we're both sixteen. I have a little sister? She's thirteen, and her name's London… my parents liked the city names. Do you have any siblings or anything?" He asked.
"Yeah, you've mentioned her a couple times. I wish I had a younger sibling." He sat with his legs crossed and ran his fingers through his hair as he talked. "I do have a sibling, actually. Her name is Marina, she's in college. Older than me by like four years. We haven't spoken very much since she went off to college." Kris thought for a moment for another conversation topic. "Have you always lived around here? Or have you moved around a lot?"
"Mm…" Paris listened quietly, toying with his hair a bit and staring down at the floor. He glanced up when Kris brought up another topic, however. "Oh, I've always lived in the same house… been there since I was born. Pretty sure my parents lived there before London and I were born, as well. You?"
"Oh, cool. I've been all over the damn place. This is probably the longest we've stayed in one place, we've been here since freshman year. I've been to, like, maybe seven different schools?" He thought about it for a minute and sighed. "Too many to count. That's been another thing with like, making friends and stuff. I always have to leave them after a while. So like, what's the point?" Kris paused for a moment and chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry, didn't mean to get depressing there."
"Mm… that's wild." Paris said quietly. "I mean, I've been here all my life, so you'd expect me to have some friends, right? But nope. I guess… I was never really willing to try. Most of the people in our class suck, so…" He shrugged and sighed. "You'll be eighteen in a couple years, and then you can go wherever and do whatever the hell you want." I might run off before then, though… I don't know how much of this I can take… He didn't speak his thoughts aloud, but the pained, desperate look on his face was enough to convey them.
"Yeah, true. Feels like that'll take forever, to be honest…" Kris sighed, leaning his head on the wall and tilting it to look at Paris. It took him a second to realize that he looked pretty troubled. "Hey, man, what's wrong? You okay?"
"Hm…?" Paris glanced up at Kris, looking a bit distant. "Oh, nothing… I-I just… can't wait to be living on my own, you know?" He smiled to reassure Kris, but it was clearly fake and forced. "My dad's so controlling about everything… it'll… uh… it'll be nice to have my own space and stuff. Do what I want."
Kris sighed and shifted so that he was directly facing Paris. "Listen, dude, I'm not stupid." He really didn't want to intrude on Paris's personal life- but at that moment, he felt he needed to. "I can tell that…something's wrong. You don't need to lie to me about it." He tried to make eye contact with the blond boy. His gaze was determined, but soft and understanding. He wanted Paris to know that he was safe with him.
Paris' smile fell and he looked away, trying his best to avoid Kris' eyes. He didn't want to see his eyes. He knew they would just be full of pity. I'm not ready… I'm not ready… He screwed his eyes shut, holding his breath to try and keep himself calm. Everything would change… we'd be homeless. I have no money. I have no friends. I can't do it. "I-I appreciate your concern, and… a-and I'm sorry, but… it's not really any of your business…"
Kris knew something like this would happen. He just sighed and nodded. "I understand. It's none of my business and I probably shouldn't be bringing it up, but I can't help but worry. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to. Hell, you don't have to talk about it at all. I just- I want you to know that I'm, like…here for you and shit. I won't go prying into anything but like…I'm here. And anything you want me to keep secret, I will." He left it at that and didn't push it further, not wanting to make Paris any more uncomfortable than he already had.
Paris looked up at Kris weakly, his eyes dull and distant. They were nothing like the piercing, sharp stare he'd had earlier. He hardly seemed to see Kris at all. His gaze passed through him, but in an entirely different way than his previous manner had done. Homeless… foster care… separated… no… He was trembling ever so slightly, and when he finally tried to draw in a breath again, he found that he couldn't. His throat and his chest were tight, and he was ghostly pale. C'mon, lungs…! Work! I can't do this… I can't do this… I can't tell him…! But he seems to know already?!
Oh god…he's having a panic attack…fuck, what do I do?? I don't want to make him more uncomfortable… Kris panicked for a moment, trying to figure out what to do. He had very little experience with people, and basically none with someone having a panic attack like this. Carefully, he got up onto his knees, and reached out a hand to gently touch the boy's shoulder. He wasn't sure if Paris was okay with touch in this state, so he treaded lightly. "Hey, hey, hey, shh, it's okay. You're gonna be okay. You're safe. I'm right here. Try and breathe, take a deep breath. You're okay." He said this softly, trying not to make the situation any worse, while he gently moved his hand and rubbed Paris's shoulder.
Paris flinched away at the touch, tensing up as his eyes widened. His heart was racing, feeling like it was about to burst from his chest. Can't breathe, can't breathe… causing problems… god, why do I always do this?! This is why he does all of that to me! His hands grew cold and clammy, and he was starting to feel a bit dizzy from being unable to breathe. He was focusing all of his energy into calming down, but it didn't seem to be working. His ears were ringing so loudly that he could scarcely hear Kris at all. Oh god, oh god… is this how I die? I can't breathe… I'll suffocate myself and there's nothing I can do…
Kris pulled his hand away. He doesn't seem to be able to hear me…God, what the hell do I do??? His heart raced, wanting to figure out something to help his friend. …You know what? Fuck it. After a long moment of hesitation, he moved closer and pulled Paris into a hug. His mind raced, trying to figure out if this was the right thing to do, but it was too late to change it now, it was already happening. He kept on murmuring reassuring words to his friend, praying that it would help him, that he would snap out of it- god, he hated seeing him like this. He was worried about him- plus about the possibility of him just making things worse by doing it. But he carried through, hugging him firmly but not tightly, not wanting to constrict his breath more than it already was. "T-try and breath with me, okay? Just try, try and breathe just a little bit. You're okay…"
Paris whimpered when he was pulled into a hug, struggling for a few seconds before he gave in. He gripped Kris tightly, clinging to him for dear life as he started sobbing. "I-I d—d-don't… wanna— d… die…!" His words were difficult to discern, and he hardly knew he was saying them. He couldn't really distinguish his thoughts from his words. "P-Please… I c—c-can't… please…" A few tears rolled down his pale cheeks and he buried his face in Kris' shoulder, shaking violently now. He was trying to breathe, but the best he could muster were harsh, shallow, desperate gasps for air.
Kris hugged him tighter, allowing him to cry on his shoulder, clinging to him, wanting to protect him from all that troubled him. From everything. "You're not gonna die. You won't die, I'll keep you safe. You're safe with me. I'm here man, I'm here. You're gonna be okay." He noticed that Paris was somewhat breathing again. "There you go, keep on breathing, you've got this. You're doing great. I got you. Keep breathing like that." One of his hands moved to Paris's head, and he stroke the boy's blond hair gently.
"C-Can't… can't breathe…" Paris drew in another harsh breath and choked, coughing weakly as he struggled to breathe. After a few minutes, he was still hyperventilating, but at least was breathing. He still wasn't very coherent, although he did mutter things under his breath that seemed to be a mix of apologies and pleas for help. "Sorry… s-sorry… c… c-can't…" He whispered, growing weaker in Kris' arms.
Kris rubbed Paris's back softly with one hand. "Shh, there's nothing to apologize for. Don't talk, focus on breathing. You got this. Keep breathing the best you can." He wasn't sure if he should be concerned and like, actually get him to a doctor, but he just decided to stay here and try and calm him down the best he can. He was already making progress with the breathing.
Paris was growing steadily weaker as time passed, and he was eventually breathing a little better, but he still seemed pretty out of it. It wasn't clear whether he was even conscious or not, but his grip on Kris had definitely loosened. "Mmmmm… can't… can't do this… I'm sorry…" He whispered softly. "I can't… believe I put you through this… I'm so sorry…" He coughed again, his voice weak and a bit raspy.
"Please, don't apologize. It's not your fault. I'm not mad or upset, not at all." He reassured him, hugging his slim body tightly. "I'm kind of worried though- do you need to see a doctor? Or will you be ok? Just nod or shake your head." Rubbing the boy's back again, he waited for a response.
I don't really know how to nod or shake my head to that without it being confusing… "I-I'll be fine…" He replied quietly. "I don't need a hospital or anything… I doubt my dad pays for insurance anyway, and we haven't got that kind of money—" He interrupted himself with a coughing fit, tears stinging the corners of his eyes.
Kris nodded. "Alright. I'll stay here with you as long as you need." He frowned when Paris burst out in coughing. It hurt to hear him struggling like that. "Shit, we should probably get you home soon. So you don't get in trouble again. Do you think you can walk?"
"Mmm… yeah, I'm sure I'll be fine… I'm sorry for causing so much trouble…" Paris replied quietly once he stopped coughing. He was pretty hoarse by now, and he was clearly exhausted. "Maybe he… won't be home… yeah…?" He mumbled to himself, not seeming to realize that Kris could hear him. "And I can just… go to sleep…"